


Sweet As the Vestry of the Oracles

by azephirin



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: 100-1000 Words, Canon - Movie, Community: 100_women, Enterprise, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Intimacy, Jewelry, Night, Undressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-28
Updated: 2010-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-07 15:03:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azephirin/pseuds/azephirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a habit she doesn't mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet As the Vestry of the Oracles

**Author's Note:**

> Also for my [](http://community.livejournal.com/100_women/profile)[**100_women**](http://community.livejournal.com/100_women/) [table](http://azephirin.livejournal.com/74095.html) prompt "eyes." Title from "[Upon Julia's Unlacing Herself](http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/herrick/unlacing.htm)," by Robert Herrick.

She takes off her boots first, unzipping them one at a time to wiggle her bare toes on the carpet. She zips them back up so that the leather won't crinkle, then sets them side by side next to the dresser. She stretches luxuriously as she strips off her uniform shirt. As she turns around to put it in the laundry collector, she's smiling.

"Good evening, Lieutenant Uhura," Spock says gravely from the bed.

"Good evening, Commander Spock," she replies, so proper that they might be greeting each other on the bridge.

"Do carry on as you were."

She laughs and takes two steps over to lean down and kiss him. His shoulders and chest are bare, and she knows he's naked the rest of the way, too: What logic in wearing clothing to bed when the covers preserve warmth (and the ship is conditioned to be temperate) and only oneself or one's intimate partner will view one's nakedness?

It's a habit she doesn't mind.

She holds his gaze as she unzips the skirt and throws it into the laundry, too. His expression remains unchanged, but his eyes tell her everything she needs to know. They don't widen like a human man's might as she stands in front of him wearing nothing but a bra, panties, and jewelry; they don't get wider when she reaches behind herself to unhook the bra, but his attention is absolutely undivided. She can feel his eyes on her back as she hangs the bra over the back of the chair, and when she turns back to him with bared breasts, their path across her nipples and back to her face is as intense and deliberate as a touch.

She pulls down the panties, and maybe she does it a little more deliberately than is strictly necessary, but who's to know? His eyes follow that, too, and the movement of her hands as she takes them off the rest of the way and steps out of them. Then she turns again, to look in the mirror.

She unknots her ponytail and lets her hair sweep free over her shoulders and down her back. And as soon as it does, she feels him standing behind her, close enough that she can feel the warmth of his body but not touching her yet. She tips her head back, and he draws his fingers through her hair, slow and gentle. She tilts her head to one side, and, carefully, he removes the earring. These are among her favorites: coiled gold disks hanging from hammered-delicate chains. She watches Spock's graceful hands open her jewelry box and lay the earring inside; then she moves her head in the other direction to give him access to the second one. He sets the piece beside its mate and closes the box's lid.

There's another pause. He's aroused already—she can feel it, and he isn't trying to hide it.

He kisses her upper arm, the curve of her shoulder, the base of her throat. She takes his hands and guides them to her breasts. He strokes them gently and precisely, caressing her nipples as they harden against his fingertips, as he brushes her hair back and kisses her throat, the hollow under her ear, the point of her jaw.

She turns in his arms and runs her hands up his chest to rest on the back of his neck. "Come to bed," she suggests.

"Nothing would please me more," he answers, letting pass the observation that he was there when she arrived.

He'll go on shift in six hours, but until then, he is hers, and she is his.


End file.
